When She was a Child
by elgatoneun
Summary: This is a POV piece on Theresa. Her thoughts and her history with Ryan.


Title:  When She Was a Child

Author:  elgatoneun

Rating:  PG-13 

Pairing:  Ryan/Theresa, Theresa POV

Summary:  Ryan's ex-girlfriend remembers when she was …

Disclaimer:  These characters do not belong to me, at all.

Spoilers:  Everything up to The Nana

Feedback:  Would be appreciated

Notes:  This is a POV fic, just wondering about Theresa and her insights into Ryan and their shared childhood.  I've corrupted the following quotation from the bible (1 Corinthians 13:11) – "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things."

When she was six, her father bought a house far away from everything she knew and loved.  He told her and her brothers that it would be better for them; they wouldn't be so close to the bad things.  Even at that young age, she knew her Papi was talking about gangs and that he wanted J.J. and Arturo away from that.  But she also knew that she was leaving all her friends.  She wouldn't see her cousins or her Tia Blanca and Uncle Jimmy everyday.  She wouldn't be able to cross the street to Nana's and eat chilaquiles con huevos with orange juice every morning before school.  But even after crying and begging, all the trucks had been loaded and they had moved to a place called Chino.

When she was seven, she had had to sit in during recess almost every week because of stupid Brianna Pruett.  She was a snotty little brat who kept pronouncing her name wrong, calling her Theresa Morales even though her last name was Morelos.  Mexican kids could only be Morales, Garcia or Chavez.  She knew her darker skin made her different.  She retaliated by calling the little blonde girl "La Mosca" whenever she was around.  That's when Marisol and Cecilia became her best friends and they laughed about the little fly that buzzed angrily around them demanding to know what "La Mosca" meant.

When she was eight, the old white man next door died.  He wasn't discovered until her Papi noticed he hadn't been taking his mail and went over to check on him.  A little while later, a family with two boys moved in.  Her brother Arturo became friends with them.  She didn't think much of them and figured they weren't worth her time.  They were boys and didn't know anything about anything.  The older one was loud and said bad words when her parents weren't around.  The little one didn't say or do much.  She thought he might be retarded and felt sorry for him.

When she was nine, the little one punched Billy Pruett in the face after he called her a bad name.  She talked to him then and taught him some Spanish.  He still didn't talk much.  She found out he wasn't retarded and was actually pretty smart.  He liked to read books and talked about places he had been.  He'd moved all over California.  He said Chino was the best because of her.  She had smacked him good and told him not to get mushy.  Besides, her parents wouldn't let her date until she was fifteen.  

When she was ten, Ryan, the little one, became her boy best friend.  Something she had to clear with Marisol and Cecilia, they were always teasing her about her novio blanco.  That was also when she found out that Ryan and Trey got beaten up at home.  They didn't just get hit like normal; they were really hurt.  She had received the business end of the ruler sometimes when she was bad.  Ryan actually got beat up like in those TV movies.  Sometimes, he had a black eye.  The first time she saw him after she realized what was happening, she cried and he wouldn't look at her.  She knew that whenever he missed school, he was probably home, too hurt to walk or get out of bed.  Her mom always gave her food to take over on those days.  His favorites were chicken enchiladas and arroz con pollo.  Her parents argued about Ryan's family a lot.  But her Papi always won, saying that they should stay out of family business.  

Ryan just spent most days at her house anyway.  They did homework together, played, watched TV and helped her mom in the kitchen.  Ryan was the best tamale assembler; she didn't have the patience for it.  Her mom scolded her about it and asked how she would get a husband.  Ryan always just smiled at them while she rolled her eyes at her mom.  Then her mom always patted Ryan on the head, like he was a puppy.  She liked him because he ate whatever she made, even menudo.  Even she and Arturo wouldn't eat that.  He went with them to family parties at the park.  He did whatever she did and didn't care if the other boys sometimes made fun of him.  

When she was eleven, Ryan's brother started getting into a lot of trouble.  They could hear the yelling and screaming from the house next door.  Ryan came over less.  He tried to be there to keep his dad and brother from fighting.  Trey had gotten bigger and wasn't letting himself get hit as much.  Ryan seemed to get the worst of it.  She tried to convince him to stay out of it, but he was stubborn and told her she didn't understand.  She didn't.  

As far as she could tell, Ryan didn't make things any better and only got himself into trouble too.  She felt helpless and angry all the time.  She was angry at Ryan who couldn't help, at Trey for getting into trouble so much, at their dad for being so mean, at her parents who wouldn't help, at Arturo for not keeping Trey in line, at herself for not being able to do anything.  Finally, her parents let the Atwood boys sleep over on the nights it seemed to get really bad.  The neighbors down the street called the cops enough times, that Ryan's mom finally threw Ryan's dad out of the house.  She was relieved.  Trey seemed happy, Ryan didn't.  But he got over it; at least he seemed to.  He became even more quiet than normal, but it was okay because he wasn't getting hurt anymore.    

When she was twelve, she had fallen in love.  The object of that love had been the quiet, sandy haired boy with the speaking eyes that she'd known forever. They joined the drama club that year.  Ryan was surprisingly good.  She told him to become an actor.  She'd been so mad when Ms. Ross had chosen Danny Evers to star in The Nutcracker, just because his mom had volunteered to make the costumes.  Even so, she had been smugly satisfied because Ryan (as the Mouse King) had been the best thing about the whole production.  Ms. Ross always gave him an important role after that.  Ryan had talent and stage presence that couldn't be ignored.  

When she was thirteen, he had told her that he was going to be an architect or a builder.  He talked about the houses and neighborhoods, no, planned communities, he informed her loftily, that he would build.  He went on and on about incorporating small well-lit parks for kids to play in, how perfect they would be for families.  He detailed the kitchens and dining rooms where they would prepare and eat meals, the living rooms where they would gather and do family type things like watch TV or play board games.  For some reason, he particularly emphasized shatterproof windows.  She didn't ask.  

She listened and didn't have the heart to tell him that he was describing homes not houses.  The yearning in his voice so clear, she wanted to go to next door and yell and scream and make his mom pay attention.  That was the year he played Snoopy in the spring musical.  He was the star of the show; he was perfect.  It should have been a triumph, but it wasn't.  His family didn't come, they never did.

Eventually, he got tired of waiting, scanning the audience less eagerly each time, pretending not to care that no one showed up for him.  He hid his disappoint every time he was jostled aside as other kids' parents went to hug and congratulate them on their performance.  When she asked him why he quit, he just shrugged and said he didn't like pretending to be something he wasn't.

That was also the year she received her very first kiss from a boy.  They bumped noses.  It had been a surprise.  It was right before the 4th of July and almost unbearably hot.  They had been slurping their Popsicles, trying to finish them before the sugary rainbow hued syrup ran down their hands.  She was excited because she was going to stay at her aunt's house in San Diego for the summer.  She talked to him about all the stuff she was going to do.  All of a sudden his face came in straight towards her and he kissed her.  His nose squashed hers and his lips tasted like grape.  She had only the briefest impression of sticky sweet lips pressed against hers and the bridge of his nose flattened against the side of hers.  She had instinctively tilted her head in preparation; he had not.  She had giggled and pushed him away playfully.  He ducked his head and smiled at her shyly, embarrassed.  He was adorable and she wasn't even annoyed that her Popsicle had partly melted and fallen out of her hand.  When they watched the fireworks display at the park, the night before she was leaving for San Diego, they held hands in secret.

When she was fourteen, her brother J.J. left for college.  Her parents were so proud they held a huge going away party and invited everybody.  She was happy for J.J. and promised herself that she would do the same, make her parents just as proud.  She was a fairly good student, but she wasn't smart, not like Ryan.  She had to work at it a lot.  Ryan always seemed to get things so easily, but he didn't study at all.  He read a lot, but he never "applied" himself as the teachers would say.  He was getting caught up in all of Trey's bullshit, or at the very least, he was getting into it by trying to cover Trey's ass.  She didn't like it and she worried about it even more when Arturo seemed to be getting involved too.  

She asked J.J. to talk to Arturo and Ryan.  Trey was a lost cause and she had never liked him.  He was too much like Ryan's dad, he never took responsibility for things he did and expected Ryan or his friends to bail him out.  Arturo looked up to J.J. and Ryan was smart.  He could really go somewhere, maybe even get a scholarship.  Mr. Addison, their math teacher, and Coach Nieto really took an interest in him that year.  They encouraged him to study and get involved in school activities.  She might have even been able to talk him back into drama.  But, then they heard that Ryan's dad had gotten arrested for robbery and aggravated assault.  Their father hadn't contacted them in the three years since he left.  No phone calls or birthday cards.  

Mr. Atwood's lawyer contacted them and wanted them to be present for the hearing.  He thought having family present might help in getting a more lenient sentencing.  Ryan's mom refused.  Ryan and Trey, surprisingly, went.  Her Papi drove them up to Fresno, where their dad had been living.  When they came back the next day, Ryan wouldn't say anything to her about it.  Trey talked to Arturo, but Arturo wouldn't say anything to her about it either except that it had been bad.  She had to listen in to her parents talking about it in Spanish.  She couldn't hear or understand all of it.  Her mother swore and called Ryan's dad a son of a whore and crossed herself afterwards.  She was shocked.  Her Papi kept saying vergonzoso, she had to look that up, it meant "shameful".  

She decided that she wouldn't keep asking Ryan about it, he made it clear he didn't want to talk about it with anyone, not even Trey.  He started to shut them out.  He lost interest in everything except smoking and reading, which he only indulged in to pass the time.  He started ditching school and getting into fights.  He didn't hold her hand anymore, in secret or otherwise.

When she was fifteen, she was still in love with Ryan but she couldn't say she knew him anymore.  He was different and he kept things from her.  But overall, she was happy.  She had a great boyfriend, almost perfect.  Or so her friends told her.  He didn't cheat on her, he wasn't doing anything illegal, he treated her well, he did the things she wanted to do, her remembered her birthday, her parents liked him – perfect.  Most of all he loved her; he loved her enough to wear that heinous white suit to be her escort at her Quinceanera.  It was her best birthday ever and she thought that she might really marry Ryan one day.  He couldn't dance though, but that was okay.  A couple months later, on his birthday, they slept together.  It hurt and it was messy.  But afterwards, when she was in his arms, it was just like the old days.  She knew him better than anyone and they were connected – soul mates.  After a couple more times, it got a lot better and she started to really enjoy it.  Ryan seemed to become more himself again.  He still got into trouble at school but at least he wasn't cutting as many classes and he started playing soccer again.

When she was sixteen, they got into their first big fight as a couple.  He'd gotten a job at a construction site from his mom's boyfriend.  He was probably the only decent guy she ever dated.  Ryan was really excited and happy to be bringing in some money and helping out his mom.  He also took her out for what she thought were extravagances.  But it was nice so she didn't complain too much.  There were worse things than having a boyfriend who spent more money than he should on you.  But then he started talking about dropping out of school and working full time.  She went ballistic.  She couldn't understand why a person with so much potential would just throw it all away.  Looking back she could see that he hadn't been serious, just speculative.  But concern and worry made her careless; she said things she shouldn't have.  Like how he was a coward and running away, like his dad.  There was dead silence for a moment and his face had been frozen until a slow flush crept over his face.  It was rage.  For the first time in her life, Ryan Atwood scared her.  She didn't think he would hit her, and he didn't.  But realizing how much anger and hate he sublimated, the depth to which he hid it, even from himself jolted her out of her stupor.  She didn't know Ryan as well as she thought.  He was complicated and intense.  She forgot how intense, even as a child.  Somehow she had forgotten that.  It frightened her because she had built up so many childish fantasies and could only now see how childish and ephemeral they were.  

They took a break.  And she went back to normal life without Ryan.  It was weird at first because her normal life had always included Ryan.  She felt hunted, obligated – pressured.  There was such presence to him, as if he were always around, waiting her out.  He wasn't seeing anyone else.  That made her happy but also nervous.  Like he had figured everything out and was just waiting for her to catch a clue.  She spent weeks pretending that she didn't know what he was doing.  In the meantime, boys she didn't know very well came up to her.  She was flattered.  Ryan had been her first and only boyfriend.  She was human.  She liked the attention.  Maybe too much, and maybe she deliberately forgot that Ryan was waiting.  

And then the inevitable happened.  Ryan caught her kissing Frankie Campos.  He didn't say anything and the look on his face … she hated herself for putting it there.  She had needed to do something to put on the brakes.  They were too young to be so serious.  But as melodramatic as it sounded, he was devoted to her.  She didn't know how to tell him, instead she destroyed everything.  She was stupid and careless.  She never realized until she actually lost it, how much of herself was bundled up in Ryan.  And how much Ryan was a part of her.  She was hollowed out.  He eventually forgave her, but she'd lost something, lost some part of him that she had never gotten back.  They went out for another month or so before they finally broke up for good.  They decided to remain friends.  She had heard or read somewhere about bitterness, how it left the taste of ashes in your mouth, it perfectly captured how she felt.  The rest of the year had been painful, but she had eventually gotten over it.  She could smile and speak to Ryan without wanting to grab him and hold on and never let go.  She always thought that they would somehow come back to each other, wiser, better, happier.  She was wrong.

When she was seventeen, Ryan Atwood disappeared.  His mom and stepfather took off.  Trey and Ryan had been caught stealing a car.  Trey was in prison and Ryan was just gone.  The part of her that she thought had healed was ripped open.  She couldn't sleep some nights, wondering where he was, how he was doing.  Her family started to worry about her.  Then at Thanksgiving, he came home for a moment.  That's when all her illusions shattered.  He had forgotten her, he never even thought of her.  She didn't even exist to him anymore.  He brought some other girl to her house.  A little spark of hope that she didn't know was there finally died out.  She spoke to him coolly, would never let him see how much he hurt her, or at least she tried.

When he left, she had anger to rebuild herself.  She didn't need him anymore, hadn't needed him for a long time.  She turned to someone else.  Someone dependable and uncomplicated, Eddie loved her.  He didn't hide from her; he had no secrets from her.  He was there for her when they took Arturo away.  Her parents couldn't handle it.  She could and she did.  Eddie was always there to help her, but didn't take over.  He let her be strong.  And then he asked her to marry him … and all she could think of was escape.  She wasn't ready and she was scared.  Ryan became her beacon, some kind of symbol back when things were simpler, when she wasn't expected to deal with all these things.  For a while, she thought it might work.  Ryan was in her life again.  He was the same, that constant in her life.  She needed that.  He seemed to cling to her too; he was lost in his new life.  They talked about all the old times.  It was comforting.  But Eddie came for her; he would always come for her.  Eddie came for her because she was running away.  She was making the same mistake she made with Ryan, sabotaging their relationship because she was scared.  And she didn't want it to end the same way.  She needed to grow up.

When she finally grew up, when she became a woman – she put away childish things and she went home.


End file.
